Tyranny
by BookLungs
Summary: A Fey War looms after the events of CoHF and the Clave are more oppressive than ever. In these times Alec has gone from the most obedient Lightwood child endlessly repeating "The Law is hard, but it is the Law" to the man with dangerous and volatile ideas that will rock the core of Shadowhunter and Downworld society. Co-authored by mommysladybug and myself.
1. Polychromatic Distraction

**A/N (BlackHeartedTigress): Welcome to Chapter One of Tyranny. It marks for me the first time co-authoring a fic, and I have the honour of writing it with the wonderful mommysladybug. I hope you all enjoy this, and be sure to leave a review if you enjoyed it :)**

Polychromatic Distraction

Alexander Lightwood leaned against the door of his home, inhaling deeply and slowly in an attempt to compose himself before he entered. He allowed himself a brief grimace, before smoothing his expression. Then he held his hands out in front of him to ensure they were not trembling. Satisfied they were steady, Alec turned and opened the door.

A reading lamp lit Magnus' face as he gazed down at a worn copy of _The Importance of Being Earnest_. A faint smile adorned his lips, and it widened as he looked up:

"Hey gorgeous. How was the meeting?"

Alec crossed the room silently in a few eager strides. He'd had little idea of how strongly he'd been longing for Magnus' warm and reassuring presence until he saw him, and now all he wanted to do was surround himself in it. He gently removed the book from Magnus' hands and switched out the light.

The sole illumination for the room now was the dull and artificial glow of a nearby streetlight shining through the stained-glass windows. It shrouded the couple in a maze of shadows- black, grey and an odd myriad of colours- and yet they seemed unbothered by it. Perhaps they were too engrossed in each other; despite the darkness, Alec had little trouble finding his lover's mouth.

The skin of Alec's hand was curiously viridescent as he caressed Magnus' cheek. Despite this small act of tenderness, though, there was an unmistakable intensity and forcefulness to his kisses. He had the urgency of a man pouring alcohol down his throat to wash painful memories from his head.

If either of the lovers' eyes had been open, they might have marvelled at the coruscant blue light touching the glitter in Magnus' spiked black hair, reflecting it in multitudinous directions and making the ceiling dance with stars. Magnus certainly would have appreciated the exultant spilling of scarlet wine across Alec's powerful shoulders. The pool of light rippled as each partner pushed and pulled against the kiss, submission and dominance in equal measure.

Perhaps it was better they were closed though, as it gave Magnus a keener sense of the tension building in Alec's body. It surprised him. Both of them usually relaxed into the comfort of physical intimacy, the melting of two separate entities into one, but tonight they remained divided and distanced. The peculiarity of this caused Magnus to, albeit reluctantly, break away from Alec. Magnus' confused green-gold eyes were incandescent as a yellow light irradiated them and his mouth glistened lustrously even as it down-turned into a frown.

"Alec. What's wrong?" He whispered.

The man in question had his back to the light. His expression was therefore hidden in the folds of the night and utterly unreadable.

"Nothing. I'm fine. Why would you think something is wrong?"

The abruptness of the words made Magnus feel cold inside. After four hundred years of experience, he knew when he was being lied to. After four years by Alec's side, he knew his boyfriend only lied to him when something was seriously wrong.

Feeling frightened of the secrets Alec might be harbouring, Magnus pushed him away. Any atmosphere of desire and heat had dissipated leaving a solemn frigidness behind. His next words sounded almost accusatory:

"You never did tell me how the meeting went."

Alec blew out a frustrated sigh. "It was no different than usual. Just a boring, ordinary Clave meeting."

"I don't believe you." Magnus stood and crossed his arms. "But it shouldn't be too difficult to find out what actually happened. A quick phone-call to Lily or Maia would-"

Alec seemed to crumple; his shoulders slumped dejectedly and his head fell into his hands. "Magnus, please. Please don't do this. I can't- I can't-" He broke off, overcome by whatever emotion was driving his pleas.

Magnus' sense of confusion only grew deeper. "Alec. You can tell me anything. You know that."

"There's nothing you can do. Nothing either of us can do," Alec said hoarsely.

Protectiveness joined the puzzlement. "Did someone hurt you? Did they say something about our relationship?"

Alec was quiet. Magnus took this to be a 'yes'.

"Alec, sweetheart, it's okay." He sat back down beside Alec, wrapping his arms around him as if this physical protection could somehow protect him emotionally. "There are people out there full of hatred and contempt. They think that hurting others will make them feel better about themselves." Alec still didn't speak. "If it's annoying you that much you could talk to a Clave official. I know they don't have the best record for dealing with discrimination, but they can't ignore something like this, especially when it affects one of their own."

The Shadowhunter shivered.

"You shouldn't be afraid to speak out."

Alec laughed humourlessly. "I can deal with a few insults, Magnus. The Angel knows I should be used to them by now."

"Then what is it?"

Alec lapsed into silence once more.

"It is not fair, Alexander, to use me as a distraction. I can try to help you, but I won't be a drug to numb the pain." Alec made a faint sound of protest. "Be honest with yourself and with me, Alec. That is exactly what you're doing, and you know it. Like I said before, I want to help you, but I frankly have no patience for that."

Alec took a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry. You're right, of course you are. I am trying to avoid the problem, and it's not working. It never works. But I wasn't lying when I said we're helpless to do anything about it." He raised his face. His eyes held unshed tears. "The Clave made a ruling today on a case. The entire thing was completely barbaric, from beginning to end."

"Tell me," Magnus murmured, brushing away the tears.

Alec's gaze fell to his lap, and he began, his voice tired and wretched:

"She was a warlock, the woman who was there to make the appeal. She had the wings of a crow, only much bigger. Like some sort of dark angel. She was called Ella Ruin, and she looked about thirty. She was obviously much older than that, though, because she was presenting a case she submitted in 1953.

I knew it was going to go badly from the very beginning; they brought her in wearing what resembled gloves. It took me a little while to realize they were there to prevent her using magic."

Magnus winced in sympathy. He knew personally how it felt to have his magic stripped from him from the time he'd been taken hostage in Edom. The knowledge that one was reduced to the level of a mundane, at least in regards to power, was terrifying. Especially when one was surrounded be beings that seemed formidable even when one had full use of one's magic.

"Anyway, she told us all the reason she was there: her seven-year-old adopted daughter had been murdered in October 1953 by a Shadowhunter." The sorrow in Alec's voice was tangible. He'd always had a strong sense of empathy. "Even though the case was submitted in December of that year, once her grief had become somewhat bearable, it still hasn't been followed up even to this day. Ruin had spoken to the Clave about this twice before, but of course she hated having to recall the tragedy so clearly each time."

"God," Magnus said softly. "How cruel it must be to see the death of your child over and over."

Alec nodded in agreement, his blue eyes dark with sadness. "She still wanted some form of justice carried out, even though the Shadowhunter was nearly eighty. She needed closure, I guess." He was quiet for a beat, and then his hands closed into fists. "But the Clave weren't too happy about granting it. They started by saying she didn't have enough evidence to prove the crime actually happened. When she presented evidence that was definitely worthy of investigation, if not prosecution, they made up excuses. They told her too much time had elapsed since the crime had happened and that it wasn't worth pursuing; the perpetrator wouldn't live long enough to experience much of a jail sentence."

When she continued to press them, the Clave became more and more hostile. They finished by saying she was selfish and heartless to make an old man suffer punishment for a crime he'd probably regretted for years. They even accused her of having an ulterior motive."

"Bastards."

"She snapped after that. She screamed at them. She wept and said her daughter's name over and over. Even then, they wouldn't change their minds. She tore the gloves from her hands and threw spell after spell at them. She shrieked about taking her own justice, and created a fireball. She was going to throw it at the Shadowhunter who'd committed the crime. They were able to stop her in time, though."

"Unfortunately," Magnus said furiously. "He deserved it. He deserved to feel the pain that she went through."

Alec glanced up. "I don't disagree. The worst part was they now had a basis to convict her of a crime. They gave her five years in jail for attempted bodily harm against a Shadowhunter. I couldn't believe it. I tried to stand; to speak up for her, but as usual their voices became twice as loud as soon as I opened my mouth to speak. They made the victim into the criminal."

Magnus sat back, digesting the full horror of the situation.

"After that they went on to say that since the child had been adopted, it hadn't really been hers. They spoke of how warlocks were sterile for a reason; they couldn't be trusted to look after children, and for them to have one in their care was unnatural and amounted to child abuse. I don't think I ever hated the Clave as much as I did then."

"Welcome to my world," he replied shortly.

"I wanted to grab my bow and shoot every last one of them, especially the ones who laughed. How could they laugh about something so atrocious? Something so heart-breaking?" His voice was full of passion.

"You were right. There's nothing to be done. We have no chance of changing the ruling, not now."

"I wish it was different. I wish the Clave didn't have so much authority."

Magnus sighed. "What are you going to do, Alec? Start a revolution? The Clave have been like this for years, all through the time that I've been alive. Sure, they do a good job of pretending they are making peace with Downworlders. They give us a little bit more every time, just enough to keep us from being troublesome. In the end they'll still think the same about us, though. We're inferior to the prestigious, blessed Nephilim, and they think we ought to know that. Every so often they remind us of our true standing. Today was one of those days."

"It's not right," Alec whispered, but he knew Magnus was speaking truthfully.

"No. It's not. But it isn't going to stop."

"The Fey might stop it. They're angry enough with us, what with having their armies taken away and-"

"The Fey will start a war," Magnus interrupted. "They won't spare anyone, not the bastards and not people like you either. The rest of Downworld will join them too."

"I'd fight with them, if I could," Alec muttered.

"Not going to happen," Magnus said. "They'd never trust a Shadowhunter to fight with them."

"I'll start my own army, then. And still fight against the Clave. Then they'd have to trust me." His voice was gloomy.

Magnus rolled his eyes. "You're beginning to talk nonsense, Alec. Let's go to bed."

They both stood and walked towards their bedroom, and Alec couldn't help one last comment, "Revolution... Huh. That's not actually a bad idea."

Magnus snorted, and pulled his boyfriend into bed. "In your dreams, maybe."


	2. Vicious Circle?

Vicious Circle?

Having left the apartment in a rush to get to his planned, early-morning training session with his _parabatai_, Alec Lightwood found himself running from Brooklyn all the way to the Institute. After passing an obscenely large amount of dull mundanes in the busy streets, he threw himself through the grandiose doors of the Institute. He slammed them back in a mad dash to not be tardy. God knows he didn't want to supply Jace with more ammo for complaints and smartass remarks than he already possessed.

Halting as quickly as a highly disciplined soldier in the normally quiet hallway, he heard a muted thump and he looked down to find the source of the noise, realizing he dropped his phone. He shook his head and his lack of alertness and resultant lack of coordination. Although, considering he had only had half of what he considered a "normal" caffeine intake this early in the morning, he thought his gracelessness was hardly surprising.

He bent down to pick up his black iPhone with a safety case precisely because of the fact that Alec Lightwood was not the most coordinated person, except when he had specific runes. Even then sometimes he found himself tripping over air, running into counters, falling down the stairs; admittedly, most of those incidents had to do with his boyfriend, Magnus, making Alec forget his own name…

He blushed as the thought ran through his head. Breaking him out of his reverie, he heard fairly quiet, but focused tones behind one of the doors to the library. They spoke with a sudden intensity that compelled him to walk to the door and press his ear to it, making him scold himself for acting so childish, but not harshly enough to stop himself from eavesdropping. He could identify two familiar voices: Maryse and Robert Lightwood, his parents.

"I just cannot believe she is gone. It seems like yesterday we were all-" Maryse seemed to break off at this.

After a moment of silence between two people with so many broken promises and shattered hopes and dreams, so many memories, both good and bad, Maryse spoke again. "Every day it seems like the past Circle members' numbers dwindle. There are hardly any of us left, Robert. I just-" From behind the wood of the moderately thick door, there was an audible deep exhale of breath, then another silence.

After a moment of pure sentiment, Robert spoke: "It certainly is a shock, Maryse. We risked our lives with these people and she was-" He sighed in sudden exasperation of his own inner cyclone of emotions. He continued, "She died in the most honourable way possible, though. We must keep that in mind. That is all any of us can ask for. She died a Shadowhunter, defending the Nephilim."

Maryse made a noise that was full of indescribable desperation. "She saved my life once. You must remember that, right? We were not the closest of friends but-" She broke off again.

Alec listened for another moment, waiting, not quite sure what for. He had heard little snippets about his parent's association with the Circle throughout his lifetime but he had never truly given it much thought. Perhaps that was in part due to wanting to avoid thinking of his parents as monsters. Hearing his parents discussing the repercussions of the revolution they were part of made it seem more tangible.

On the flipside, when he had given a small portion of his thoughts over to thinking about the Uprising- especially as he learnt so many of his friends' parents were part of the Circle and were the ones doing the killing- he had never thought about it from their perspectives. He had never considered how it must have been for them to lose so many friends and family. He could never actually imagines his parents- so dignified, controlled and careful- being part of a group of 'stupid teenagers that had a bad idea'.

Alec shuddered slightly when he heard a low voice on the other side of the door saying, "The Clave won't even allow her to be cremated in the Silent City. She'll be buried like a mundane, as if she never inscribed any Runes upon her body or looked upon our Glass City with eyes full of wonder. She won't be honoured as a Shadowhunter simply because she, like many others, made the mistake of believing Valentine." It was Maryse's soft, but stern voice. "We all fell prey to his confidence in what we were doing. We believed we were doing right. We thought we were helping the Nephilim race by doing what we did." She took a breath and continued. "He convinced us that we were better than those of Downworld. We didn't know any better. We should have..." She let out a shaky breath.

It was Robert's turn to speak. "He conditioned us, Maryse. How could we have known better? The entire time, I was just afraid someone would catch us. I was so worried we would be caught before we could do anything useful. I thought with all those secret meetings, we would surely get caught. Valentine had everything planned out from the beginning, Maryse. He used us. He needed us to help his plan along, so he used us. And we were willing to help him. He was persuasive, Maryse, you know that better than anyone." Then, it was silent again.

The Shadowhunter's mind was suddenly a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts and ideas spinning in through his mind. He remembered the night he was so upset about unfairness and cruelty of the Clave. Alec was sure the Clave was wrong. He wanted to go against the Clave. He had grown up believing and endlessly quoting, 'the law is hard, but it is the law'. He did not agree with what the Circle did, of course he didn't. He would never want to be responsible for deaths of so many people. Despite this, he could at least empathize with the Circle members because he could understand that they truly believed they were in the right, that they were helping their race. He could see where they were coming from, even if the idea of hurting a Downworlder simply for their demonic ancestry, which they had no choice at all over, sickened him.

He started thinking of the previous night when he had witnessed such an atrocity; a woman was denied reparations simply because she was a warlock. She was treated like a dog they were vying for a reason to put down. Hell, they chained her up as if she had no morals or scruples, as if she would kill them right there. The Clave, the people Alec had grown up with associating with justice and honour, had once again turned the victim into the criminal and punished the poor woman as they laughed about it afterwards. Alec had decided at that moment that he hated the Clave. He had never hated them so much, not even when he knew they laughed at him for whom he had fallen in love with. He was constantly being treated unfairly even if the Clave claimed it was open to diversity simply because they had not stripped his marks the minute he came out. He was laughed at, his opinions were taken with a grain of salt, and someone else's always covered up his words.

Alec knew all of these things, but he also knew that no matter how badly he was treated, Downworlders were treated worse. Alec might be _that gay Lightwood teenager dating the High Warlock of Brooklyn_, but the Downworlders were treated as pets, as if the Nephilim could use them however they wished, then throw them away. Like they could lock them up for something as simple as wishing to find closure from your child's death. The Shadowhunter felt his blood boiling as he let out a deep breath he was unaware he had been holding in. He blinked back angry tears threatening to leave his eyes and bit his lip. Suddenly he felt a buzzing in his pants pocket: his phone. Alec was broken out of his thoughts as he read the five texts from his brother on the screen telling him how late he is.

Alec moved away from the door as quietly as possible and then ran up the hallway to the training room. After bursting through the door, Alec was tackled to the ground by a blurred, dark form. He hit the ground and decided not to fight back. He looked up at the golden eyes of his attacker as he was pinned to the training mat. The blue-eyed teenager saw the other boy scrunch up his eyebrows. "You're late."

Alec tried to decipher whether or not Jace was actually upset with him as his _parabatai_ got to his feet and offered his hand to Alec. He seemed to be fairly content; therefore Alec blinked a few times and simply replied with, "Sorry. I -uh-" he stopped. Should he tell his _parabatai_ about what he overheard his parents talking about? Should he discuss what had happened that night with the warlock woman? If he did, would Jace laugh? Would he call Alec an idiot? Would he be as upset about it as Alec? The Shadowhunter sighed and looked at the ground, then into Jace's eyes, like he could find the answers to all of his questions there.

Jace seemed to notice something was different about Alec. He realized that something was wrong. Something was not right with his _parabatai_. It couldn't be Magnus, could it? The golden teenager pushed a hand through his blonde hair and gave Alec a questioning look, "Is everything okay? You look a little frazzled."

Alec took a breath and spilled about everything that had happened. He told the blond about the night with the unfairness of the Clave and what he and Magnus had talked about. He told him about what he had heard his parents discussing behind the secrecy of closed doors. His breathing was uneven and shaky, and his heart was beating faster and faster; his face grim and trying to hide his emotions from being plain on his angular face. When he finished, he tried to take a calming breath to hide how terribly upset he was all over again. He shifted his blue eyes up to look into the golden ones. His _parabatai's _face was void of emotion for a moment; not letting anyone see how he felt was what Jace did to survive. Alec surveyed his brother's eyes and waited, eventually shifting his own blue eyes back down at the floor of the training room.

After what seemed like hours to Alec, the blond finally let his face show what he was thinking. He looked at Alec, placed a solid hand on the taller boy's shoulder and said quietly, "The Clave is wrong, Alec. It's easy enough to see that." He took a breath. "So, the biggest question now is what are you planning on doing about it?"

This made Alec think back to the conversation he had with Magnus the other night. He could clearly hear his boyfriend's honey-like voice in his head: _What are you going to do, Alec? Start a revolution? _Alec had taken that thought with a grain of salt, seeing as that is all Magnus meant by it; simply a joke. He was simply making a point of how impossibly ridiculous one would have to be to even consider it. It was dumb idea, Alec knew. He had grown up with horror stories about the Uprising, about the stupid group of teenage Nephilim who thought they could change the world, about the many deaths that had occurred because of the one man who wanted more than anything to purify the race, to save the world from corruption.

Only in the past 6 years or so had Alec actually been putting faces to those teenagers; his parents, Jace's parents, Clary's parents, Hodge. All of these people he had come to know and met, even. With all of this swirling in his head once again, he shook his head. "What- I mean- there's nothing for me to do, you know. I just-" He sighed as Jace raised an eyebrow. Alec continued, "When Magnus and I were talking…" He took a deep breath and looked Jace right in the eyes as he asked, "Would a person have to be completely insane to want to start a revolution even after knowing all of what happened with our parents?"

Jace didn't even hesitate. "Yes. You would have to be insane." He took a second and added, "But that's usually the best kind of leader, you know?" He paused for a moment, amusement leaving his expression. "Would you actually want to do that, though, Alec? Have you discussed this at all with your boyfriend?"

Alec shook his head slowly. "No. I don't really think he would agree with me. I mean- I know he agrees with my ideals and how I feel and my views on things, but I am pretty sure he would rather let it be. _Laissez-faire_ is just his way of dealing with things." He stopped and thought back to what Jace had asked. "As for if I would actually do it…" He paused and exhaled. "Yes. I think that I would do it. I couldn't do it alone, though. Not without all of you guys with me and on my side. But it's a stupid idea, right?"

Jace took a minute to absorb how sincere and honest his _parabatai_ was being. Jace could see how torn apart Alec was over all of this. Every time he spoke about this, he always sounded so passionate, so emotional. Alec spoke of such raw topics that no one else would bother being upset about, but Alec was always the good-hearted one. Jace returned his gaze to Alec and grinned. "So when do we start?"

This must have caught Alec off guard because he scrunched his eyebrows close together and then his eyes widened incredibly. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again. "Wha-" he stuttered and asked with slightly squinted eyes. "Really?"

Jace looked at him with certainty and replied. "Alec. You're my brother, my _parabatai_. That means I know you, maybe even better than you know yourself. Of all the people I would trust to remain uncorrupted by power, it would always be you. I have faith in you, and therefore I have faith in what you believe. We've all known for so long now how much evil there is within the Clave. I hate pretending like we don't know the Clave is a two-faced bitch; one side all nice and pretty for the politics and to uphold their 'we're so civilised and superior' crap, the other uglier than Lilith as it tortures the innocent for crimes it knows they didn't commit. " He looked down for a moment, as if to gather his thoughts. "So, basically what I'm trying to say is, if you want to start a revolution, I will be right here by your side the whole way. Like I said before, when do we start?"

Alec smiled slowly and then asked. "Are you sure?" He looked at Jace, who looked back and nodded. "Okay -uh- well, first we should finally do our daily routine for today's training." He laughed a little and went to the weapons cabinet to start getting his weapon out for the session. Jace laughed in reply and tackled the black-haired boy to the ground again, who fought back this time.

**A/N (BlackHeartedTigress): And so concludes the second chapter. This one was written by mommysladybug and edited by myself. We would both love to hear your thoughts and suggestions :) **


	3. Trials of Self

The Trials of Self.

Alec left the training session with Jace feeling relieved. He hadn't been sure of his _parabatai's _reaction and it had taken a lot of courage to even voice his thoughts to Jace. That he had reacted so positively certainly buoyed Alec a little, but even then a huge amount of self-doubt remained.

Brushing his hand against the wall of the Institute as he made his way to his old room, he thought of the major worries that plagued him. Primarily, he was not a leader. If there had been a person to come up with a crazy idea, and then the planning to carry it out, it was Jace or Izzy. Maybe even Clary. Alec was the one who protected them from the flaws in their plans, or the things they didn't foresee. And yet now he would have to be the one to take charge, to give orders and expect them to be followed to a tee.

On the other hand, he liked responsibility. When Maryse and Robert had remained in Idris, he had been the one to run the Institute. He had done well too; Downworlders who hated his parents had begun to smile at him before the end of the week and even his stoic, distant father had offered a few words of praise. He knew how to be empathetic, how to be fair, how to be diplomatic. The only problem was that not everyone liked to listen to him; if he was lucky, he would just be referred to as 'the High Warlock's boyfriend'. But he was also known as 'the warlock's pet Nephilim' or 'Magnus' latest conquest'. Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike talked over him as if he didn't exist.

He sighed as he turned the doorknob. If that was his only fear, then perhaps it could be overcome with time and effort. Alas, that was not the end of his problems. Alec also worried about how it would affect him as a person. _Absolute power corrupts absolutely _was a phrase that came to mind. He might not know much about mundane wars, but even he realised that there were commonalities between Shadowhunter history and mundane history. He knew that leaders who had started out seemingly wanting the best for their people became avaricious and paranoid with the more power they held. He never wanted to be like that, unable to trust his loved ones for fear they might be plotting against him.

He also remembered well his conversations with Camille Belcourt and the things that had ensued from that; he'd held power over Magnus, the power to remove his immortality, to make him like Alec. And he'd been tempted by it. He hadn't said no immediately, he'd had to weigh up his options first. This part of him scared Alec. He hadn't known that he could be so cold and selfish. He hadn't known he could come so close to betraying someone he loved so dearly.

What reassured him was the fact that in the end he'd made the right decision; he'd refused Camille's offer. He had known the difference between right and wrong, between love and deceit. _Will I always make the right decision, though_? he thought to himself with a great deal of uncertainty. Perhaps the best thing to do was to ensure he didn't have too much power in the first place, he mused. The choices made by the revolutionaries would have to be utterly democratic and with none of the Clave's forcefulness or bias. They would listen to everyone and do what was best for both Downworlders and Shadowhunters.

His mind began to wander as he lay on the bed, and eventually he drifted into a mixture of dream and memories:

_It was autumn in Alicante. The narrow streets were strewn with reds, golds and browns as if someone had taken a paintbrush and carelessly flicked it at the city. Children laughed at they demolished leaves that were painstakingly scraped together. No doubt they would hear scolding words from their parents the next day, but for now they could rejoice in the low afternoon sun that did not often make appearances at this time of year._

_A little girl with delicate blue butterfly wings squealed particularly loudly as her brother, with a devious grin, stuffed a handful of leaves down the back of her shirt with a Runed hand. She quickly spun round to retaliate, but he'd danced out of reach with his Nephilim grace. He looked vaguely disconcerted as she began to giggle._

_"What?" he demanded, his eyes wide._

_"I always thought you'd look pretty in a dress," his sister sang, and snickered as he looked down in horror at the frilly pink atrocity he was now wearing._

_"MOM! Suzie used magic on me again!" he complained loudly._

_Their mother attempted to hide her grin behind her graceful pale blue hand while their father smiled indulgently at their antics. _

_Night fell quickly at this time of year, and soon the adults of Alicante were moving up to the Gard for the scheduled meeting. The meetings were always at night, of course, to accommodate the permanent vampire residents of Alicante. Their pale faces were seen brightly among the mass of people, and so perhaps their nervousness was the most palpable simply for this reason. _

_Tonight was special, more so than the Angel's Day celebrations or the Tyranny Days mourning; the results for their elected President was to be announced. Normally it had been a competition between four or five Shadowhunters, all selected carefully for their peaceable natures and record of equality. Downworlders had stood before for election, but had never made it far. Thousands of years of hatred could not be erased with a single stroke (albeit perhaps the most important moment in history for a long time where Shadowhunters and Downworlders were concerned). And yet this year a werewolf stood with the Shadowhunters, her head held high._

_He name was Cynthia May Roberts, her second name given for her ancestor, the long-dead but fondly remembered hero Maia Roberts. She had a powerful bearing with her dark, shrewd eyes, but was also blessed with the gift of charm; her lips tipped upwards in a cordial smile as she greeted her neighbours, friends and rivals. Many held the belief that Cynthia May's calming and confident presence would win over even Shadowhunter and vampire voters. Although his cat-eyed father might disagree, the navy blue, ram-horned warlock watching from the back certainly thought so._

_The previous President began the ceremony with a long speech, and by the end of it the room was seething with impatience. They didn't care for words about moving forwards, growing accustomed to the changes in society or the rewording of peace treaties. They simply wanted to know who would lead them next._

_"And now, before I announce the result," the Shadowhunter began slowly, to the sound of a collective groan. "A little respect, thank you very much," he said huffily. "I just wanted to remind you that no matter what the result, we should be thankful for the society we have now that the Clave is long gone. That we should take a moment to remember those who forged the way towards us living in harmony; Isabelle and Alexander Lightwood, Jace Herondale, Simon Lewis and Clary Fairchild." There were a few respectful nods throughout the room, but a gleam of sorrow shone briefly in the eyes of two of the men there. "And now, without further ado, let me announce the results; the winner of this election is _Meoroooow!"

Alec's eyes flashed open to glare at the kitten crying at him. Isabelle had of course insisted that they adopted another feline after Brother Zachariah- or James Carstairs, as it would now be more proper to call him- had made off with their last cat, Church.

"Go away," he muttered, aiming a half-hearted kick at the ball of fluff. It in return lashed out with its claws, leaving a series of thin red marks on Alec's leg. The kitten promptly left, and Alec would have sworn there was smugness in the way it carried itself. "I hate cats," Alec growled to himself. It wasn't entirely a lie either; apart from Chairman Meow, he'd never really gotten along with the various cats he'd met.

He sighed, and flopped back down against the sheets. He willed the utopian dream to return, but to no avail. It would seem that the only way he'd see it again was if he made it a reality.

He still wondered whether the revolution was even a good idea. There was obviously the possibility it could fail, but what would the consequences of that be?, Alec wondered. Could he set back the progress that Downworlders had made over the last fifty, _hundred _years? Could he reignite hundreds of years' worth of hatred? Or, most devastatingly, could he initiate a war that destroyed either Shadowhunters or Downworlders, or even both?

He shivered as he lay on his bed. He wished more than anything that Magnus was there with him at that moment. For Alec, he had always been that calming voice of reason when his thought began to tangle themselves into ever worsening knots. He knew exactly what Alec was capable of. Magnus could easily see the flaws in any of his plans, and had the advantage of having had lived through a huge portion of important Shadowhunter and Downworld history. Magnus would know if his idea was stupid or worse, incendiary.

He also wanted to share his vision of the future with someone who would fully comprehend all that it entailed. He didn't just want less persecution of Downworlders and to give them more of a chance to express their views. It went further than that. He desired for the taboos around Shadowhunter-Downworlder relationships to fall, and for the races to truly be able to love each other without reproach. When he walked down the street holding his boyfriend's hand, he didn't want to feel a sense of dread with each look of disgust that was sent his way.

Alec held tightly to the part of him that believed he could make his vision come true, and hoped passionately that it would be the future Magnus and any of their children would see.

**A/N (BlackHeartedTigress): Thank you for reading. This was a more reflective chapter, but I hope it explains where Alec stands on the revolution at the moment.**


	4. Mea máxima culpa

Mea máxima culpa

_'Through my most grievous fault'_

Although at first he had felt disappointed upon discovering Magnus' absence when he returned home, he soon became immensely grateful for the time it allowed him to think. He'd grown nervous of how he would bring the subject of the revolution up, and even more nervous of how Magnus would react. He envisioned many different scenarios, none of which seemed particularly realistic:

**Scenario #1**

_The sun is shining, birds are tweeting and ALEC spontaneously announces he's going to start a revolution that could potentially kill them all._

MAGNUS: _(sits quietly for a moment, then laughs) Good one, ALEC. You almost had me believing you were serious there for a moment._

_ALEC laughs awkwardly, pretends it was a joke and never brings it up again._

**Scenario #2**

_ALEC painstakingly explains why the revolution is needed and how he will prevent it becoming like the Circle._

_MAGNUS: All right. Let's do it!_

_ALEC: Really?_

_MAGNUS: (stares with mild disbelief)_

_ALEC: Were you being sarcastic?_

_MAGNUS: No. A Circle Resurrection is just what we've always needed._

_ALEC: (blinks, confused)_

_MAGNUS: You're an idiot._

_Alec laughs awkwardly, pretends it was a joke and never brings it up again._

**Scenario #3**

_Alec fails to mention the revolution until it becomes blindingly obvious that he's starting a revolution._

_MAGNUS: Alec?_

_ALEC: Yes?_

_MAGNUS: Are you hiding something from me again?_

_ALEC: (winces) Does the lie of omission count as a lie?_

_MAGNUS: (glares)_

_ALEC: Well, uh, you see, for the past few months me, Jace, Izzy, Simon and Clary have all been working on idea to change the Clave. Or even replace it._

_MAGNUS: (holds head in hands) Please tell me you're not serious._

_ALEC: (laughs awkwardly and pretends it was a joke) April Fools!_

_MAGNUS: It isn't April fool's day. It isn't even spring yet…_

_Alec makes a vaguely surprised sound and never brings it up again._

**Scenario #4**

_MAGNUS: You know the way I once asked you, in a jocular manner, if you were going to start a revolution?_

_ALEC: (looks worried) Uh, yeah?_

_MAGNUS: Well, I've decided it was actually a good idea and that we should start planning a revolution now-_

_ALEC: laughs awkwardly and-_

_MAGNUS: Wait, I'm agreeing with you in this one-_

_ALEC: Pretends he was joking-_

_MAGNUS: Alec darling, I think the revolution is a good idea-_

_ALEC: I'LL NEVER BRING IT UP AGAIN!_

_MAGNUS: (looks exasperated and a little hurt)._

_ALEC: Oh._

Alec groaned. _This is going to be absolutely impossible, _he thought to himself. There simply wasn't any way he could win; Magnus simply wouldn't approve of the idea. And yet the idea of hiding it from his boyfriend was much, much worse. He had already learnt that lesson well enough, and knew he could never stand to break Magnus' trust so deeply again. It only really left one option: he would have to explain his idea as delicately as possible and hope Magnus' wrath would wane over the course of the night.

"What's wrong?"

Alec started, barely managing to avoid falling off the sofa, and glanced up to see Magnus watching him with a curious expression.

"I didn't even notice you'd come in," Alec said, shaking his head and making a half-hearted attempt to glare at his boyfriend. "You could've said something before now, you know."

"I know." Magnus smiled. "So, what's on your mind, buttercup?"

"I swear on the Angel, if you don't stop calling me those ridiculous names, I'll…"

"You'll what?" Magnus teased, knowing full well the threat was empty.

Alec whipped out a cushion from behind him and lobbed it at Magnus, who deflected it with a wave of his hand and a roll of his eyes.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to avoid talking about something. Again," the warlock said, his tone becoming serious once more.

Alec sighed. "You're not going to like it."

"That's not a good enough reason not to tell me, though," he replied, and his voice softened, "You can trust me with anything, Alec."

The Shadowhunter looked away. "I do trust you. Of course I do. But this…" He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. Although the scenarios he'd thought about were sure to be nothing close to reality, there had been a common theme throughout them all. He lost his courage to tell Magnus. And if he couldn't manage something as easy as this, how would he ever lead a revolution? "I want things to change." His words were rushed and forced, lacking all of the quiet calm he'd been aiming for.

Magnus looked confused and taken aback. "I- what? I didn't know you were unhappy, I thought things were better between us-"

Alec grimaced. "I wasn't talking about us. I mean… society?" His voice was so uncertain that it came out as a question. _Goddamn it, _he thought. _I need to just say it. Be honest. I'm not a little kid who has to ask permission_. This time he looked directly into Magnus' eyes, "You heard what happened to that warlock woman in front of the Clave. They humiliated her, and just because she was a Downworlder. You know how unjust it is, how it needs to change. Well, I want to be the one who changes it- I want us to be the ones who change it. Who make things right."

The warlock breathed out slowly, but it didn't mask the alarm that had crept into his expression. "No, Alec. I already know what a revolution looks like. Do I really have to tell you about the Circle-"

"_I am not my parents._ I am not Valentine. His idea was to kill people. Mine is to save them."

Magnus was shaking his head. "Ideals. That is what you have; just like Valentine. How long would it be before you're willing to sacrifice a life for the cause? How long before you'll sacrifice hundreds?"

The Shadowhunter flinched, his skin whitening. "I wouldn't- I couldn't do that to one person, never mind hundreds. Why are you even with me if you think I'm capable of that?" The words had truly shaken him that much was clear. His hands were clenched tightly, his skin stretching over bone.

"You don't understand what it's like-"

"Neither do you!" Alec voice erupted. "All your life you've followed the whole _laissez-faire _approach. You think that's the best, simply because you haven't had to hurt or kill anyone because of it- but you have no idea of how many you could have helped if you'd done something! If you hadn't have just sat back and watched. You can't tell me this is wrong, when you don't even know, you've never even _tried _to change things."

Magnus' eyes burned with withheld anger, but he replied tonelessly, "This conversation is over. I don't want to hear you talking about revolutions again, either. You're severely lacking in both hindsight and foresight, and that alone is enough to get us all killed."

"You don't get to decide that-"

The coldness of his next words left Alec stunned: "If you start a revolution, anything between us is over. For good this time. And I won't hesitate to fight for the Clave, if that's what it comes to."

Alec tried to speak, tried to say something to defend himself, but his voice was strangled by the knot in this throat. Shame coloured his cheeks, and his thoughts were bitter. _If I wasn't so weak, I would fight back. I would convince him I was right. But I can't do it, I'll never be able to do it._

"Why can't you trust me?" He finally whispered, knowing the depth of his hurt was obvious.

"I can't afford to trust you on this. I know what it does to people- I saw Valentine torture a child to force her to give up the location of one of her family members. I can't let you become like that, to be so far gone that you'd hurt a child." Magnus stood. "Put it out of your head, Alexander. Nothing good will come of ideas like this."

He left the room, and Alec felt the heaviness of the silence that now surrounded him. _I'm not like that, _he thought to himself. _I'm not like Valentine, I can do this and still be good. I know I can._

**_Several hours pass…_**

Alec could hear the light steps of someone pacing repeatedly up and down in the room next to the one he was in. He wondered what it meant. Anger? Worry? Fear? He scratched at a raised scar on his arm, feeling drained of emotion after the confrontation. It wasn't as if he could take the words back. He didn't regret them either; he knew he was right on this one, even if Magnus refused to concede that. _Would I risk losing him to do this?_ Alec thought. He continued to mull over it, until he was startled by the abrupt silence.

His frame tensed and he looked up expectantly. He was about to get up and open the door himself, just to end the nauseating suspense, when its handle turned slowly. He watched warily as Magnus re-entered. He was surprised to see an expression of recalcitrance rather than more fury.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. Moments later he was holding Alec in his arms and his voice was as vulnerable as it had ever been. "I didn't mean to- to say those things. I should never have compared you to someone like Valentine." He paused, and then continued hesitantly, "I still don't think it's a good idea-"

Alec made an irritable noise and made to move away.

"Hear me out. I shouldn't have treated you like a child. I know that. But don't you think a revolution is a bit much?"

"No," he replied shortly. "I think it's proportionate to what they've done."

"The Clave aren't the enemy, Alec."

"Aren't they?" Alec asked, his eyes contemplative. "They're the ones who are going to send us into a war against the Fey, which could easily have been prevented."

"The Fey should never have joined forces with Sebastian," Magnus reminded him. "If _they_ hadn't ignited the tension, we wouldn't be even talking about a war."

Alec smiled humourlessly. "I can't believe you're actually _defending _the Clave."

"As much as I hate doing it, if it will stop you from trying to overthrow them I'll gladly do it. Have you even considered the forces they have at their disposal if you do have to fight them? Have you thought about the Silent Brothers and the Iron Sisters?"

"The Silent Brothers have put their own priorities ahead of the Clave before."

"Jem was one Brother. He's an outlier, an anomaly. When it comes down to it, they'll fight for the Clave. No matter how unjust they are."

Alec frowned. Although the Silent Brothers were healers more than fighters, they'd still be a formidable force, especially knowing the effect they could have on the mind. And Magnus was right; the Clave had an army of trained Shadowhunters at their disposal. At the moment, he had only his friends and family. And while those friends might include people like Jace and Clary, he realised it still wouldn't be enough. He bit his lip.

"You know I'm right," Magnus said, and he took no pride in saying the words. "Change things from within the Clave. It'll be safer and more likely to work. And I know people might have ignored you before, but things might have changed after you helped save the world from Sebastian."

"Okay." Alec gave in for now, despite his belief that the other Shadowhunter's estimation of him hadn't changed. And it wouldn't change until he confronted them directly, until he proved beyond all doubt that he was not weak or afraid. Magnus looked relieved that he'd managed to dissuade Alec from the idea for at least a little while. He knew it wouldn't be the last time they would have the conversation, though.

Later, Alec found himself dreaming again. He was in Alicante again, only this time the scene was entirely different;

_ The vampire's sharp teeth flashed as he snarled at the Nephilim girl. "How dare you disrespect your betters!"_

_ "You are no better than any of us!" She said defiantly, holding her head high despite the scars that traced her body. "The time will come when we rise again, when you Downworlders will be begging for _our_ mercy-"_

_ The vampire gave a cry of rage and tore at her throat with his teeth. It was vulgar and messy, and the rest of the slaves cowered, hoping that their master's eyes wouldn't settle on them and decide to use them as an example. When he was finished, he let her body fall to the ground. He grinned savagely at the slaves, daring any one of them to make a sound. _

_He spoke with all the arrogance of a man who had complete control over the people he was addressing, "This is the legacy your ancestors left for you. That because they became greedy, you all will spend your lives in servitude to the people you used to kill for sport. If you want to take your anger out on anyone, direct it towards them and rebels such as these," he kicked the dead girl's body, "Every time one of you tries something like this, you will suffer twice as much. Ten more of you will die today, and the rest of you will have no food for a week." He signalled towards several of the stronger boys. "Dispose of this, and then select ten for me to kill. If you refuse to do any of these things, twenty will die instead of ten."_

_The boys did not hesitate for a moment. Any solidarity had quickly left them as they'd seen so many beaten to death by merciless tyrants. They had little to hope for any more. When the ten had been selected, when the ten screamed as they were set alight, when the ashes of the ten were swept away, the boys did not so much as flinch. Anything human had fled from them._

When Alec awoke, his body was drenched in sweat and his breaths were rapid and shallow. His mind raced, and he suddenly wondered if the greatest thing to be feared was himself.


End file.
